


I don't think so.

by CheckYourLie (svnwritten)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Could be Canon but world is full of cowards, M/M, Obsession, Pining, Sexual Tension, X-EXO, mentions of body disfiguration, mild angst but angst nevertheless, no beta we die like men, or is it..., pun not intended, x-exo verse, yes i might be obsessed with this concept
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21598708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svnwritten/pseuds/CheckYourLie
Summary: After the storm, there's only one person that Baëkhyun is looking for.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen
Comments: 27
Kudos: 220





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this happened and by things I mean the comeback which left me shook.  
> In addition I also noticed a lack of non-smutty x-exo fics. Hence this story.
> 
> This is my own idea of x-exo who in this story are clones trained to become perfect criminals. Does it make sense? It's up for a debate...

He desperately wanted to feel weaker. He wanted his legs to wobble. He wished for his head to spin. Everything - anything - would be better than feeling that numbness that was filling him up. Even his blood - his own blood - didn’t feel as warm as if should. 

Baëkhyun blinked rapidly. 

“Foolish…” he muttered under his breath. 

He wasn’t made to be weak. He wasn’t made to be a loser. One idiotic mistake wasn’t enough to cross his entire career. Surely, soon enough, he would prove his value and set himself free from this rotting dollhouse. He would be rewarded - next year at this time he would be the desired war-machine, ready to turn the opponent’s army into a cloud of dust, ready to cut them into pieces. Hopefully with someone to match his strength on the side. Someone like-

 _“As if he wanted something like that.”_ mocked a tiny voice inside Baëkhyun’s head. The voice sounded like him. Of course, it did. Because Baëkhyun lost to the very person who was his “original” version.

Sharp jaw clenched upon the imaginary of round cheeks and soft edges of his own familiar yet strange face. He hated the way “Baekhyun” looked. Awful, disgusting, soft, cheap. He didn’t look special at all. He didn’t look capable of becoming what Baëkhyun had the potential to become. Yes, Baëkhyun was special. One of a kind. Perfect. Improved edition. He shouldn’t be required to prove himself. Putting him against The Other was a pure insult. 

_“But you lost anyway.”_ concluded the voice and Baëkhyun grimaced. 

Those thoughts swarmed to him like wasps whenever he was alone and without anything to do. The need to compete with his own shadow. The desire to overcome him was eating Baëkhyun alive. 

He should get out of here. Shadows in this room were doing no good to him. 

Throwing one last glance at the camera hanging in the corner, Baëkhyun crossed the room and pushed the door open. For one terrifying second, he was afraid that the door would be locked. His face reminded as serious as usual. It opened smoothly.

Was his sword still in the martial arts room or was it transported somewhere else? Could it be that this pathetic excuse of Baëkhyun’s _human_ prototype took his precious sword? Should he go get it first or should he-

“Are the others out too?” Baëkhyun asked out loud casually. He craved to see someone, anyone with a familiar face that didn’t look like his own. 

With his lips pressed tightly, Baëkhyun walked down the corridor. The red lights were flashing above his head. The purpose of that was to keep them alerted - at least that was what he suspected. Silver chain swung lazily, brushing against his cheek. Cold metal against the warm imitation of a skin. The blood had almost stopped dripping. Surely, he could already hang the chain properly - cover his itchy scar and feel the therapeutic weight on his face. He refused to do that still. 

A dark and tall shadow appeared in the hallway, few meters away from Baëkhyun. The white eye stood out in the dimmed red light. Pink hair wore signs of being burned at the tips and ripped clothes said enough of the ruthlessness of the opponent that the clone had to face last night.

“Chanyeøl.” Baëkhyun nodded, his lips twitching as he noticed Chanyeøl’s wide grin. “Did you lose control over your flames again? Or was it that you got off on fighting yourself so hard that it caught you on fire?” he teased, ignoring the bitter after-taste on his tongue. 

Chanyeøl’s grin grew wider and more wicked. He took two steps forward and suddenly Baëkhyun’s nose was intruded with the heavy scent of burnt flesh. 

“Baëkhyun. I see that your fight didn’t go oh-so-well? That’s a pity.” said Chanyeøl, his knuckles brushing against the tip of Baëkhyun’s nose. Baëkhyun had to stop himself from gagging. How Kāi could stand that odor was beyond his imagination.

“I will do better next time.” Baëkhyun shrugged, cocking his head to the side. He missed the familiar weight of the blade on his hip. It wasn’t an obvious weapon of choice but it worked perfectly for him. It made him feel safer. “Besides, seeing as you’re still here, the victory doesn’t guarantee instant freedom anyway,” he added, fighting off the blossoming feeling in his chest.

“Guess, it doesn’t.” Chanyeøl shrugged mindlessly. He stopped dreaming about getting out of here a long time ago.

Baëkhyun bit the inside of his cheek. He _wasn’t_ supposed to feel emotions, god damn it. He _was_ supposed to train to become a perfect war-machine. That’s the _only_ reason why he was created. But the thought was already planted in his mind. Because if despite winning Chanyeøl was still here then what were the odds that…

“Everybody is still here?” Baëkhyun asked before his mind caught on the implications of his words.

Chanyeøl’s eyebrows furrowed and his white eye narrowed slightly, eyelid drooping unnaturally. Baëkhyun still remembered the day Chanyeøl landed in the middle of the dollhouse with his eye replaced with this white monstrosity. Nobody knew what they had done to him. Not even Chanyeøl himself. A few days later when Chën disappeared, Baëkhyun thought that surely if they return Chën with his eye missing, he would go berserk and cut the entire place in half. Chën wouldn’t even know that it was for him. 

But Chën’s eyes were just the same. The color was different but everything else was the same - the coldness and creeping mirth. Baëkhyun secretly adored the way Chën looked at the world with those eyes. Especially he loved when they stopped at him, whether it was to send him a mocking smirk or express neutral boredom. All of Baëkhyun’s dreams were filled with these eyes.

Chanyeøl loudly crackled, bringing Baëkhyun back on earth. Right. Chanyeøl. 

“I can’t tell for sure but Kāi mentioned that he saw a few of the others.” Chanyeøl snickered. Baëkhyun heard somewhere that deep voice was supposed to be soothing and calming. Chanyeøl’s voice reminisced of glass’ crumbs being rubbed against glazed tiles. “Why? Looking for someone, in particular, Baëkkie?” 

“Nobody, just curious” Baëkhyun huffed, a little bit too fast for the answer to come as natural. 

Chanyeøl grinned mercilessly. “I don’t think so but whatever helps you fall asleep.” 

Baëkhyun shuddered, “Don’t pretend that you care about my well-being,” he snapped, his fingers absently drumming against his thigh.

“I don’t. Just like you don’t care about my opinion of you. You care only about one opinion.” Chanyeøl crossed his arms over the chest. 

“None of your business.” Baëkhyun snapped, his voice coming through his clenched teeth like a hiss. 

“You may be fooling others but you can’t fool me, Baëkhyun.” Chanyeøl grinned again, “I see the way your eyes light up when you look at him. He doesn’t care, you know? He doesn’t care at all. I don’t see why you keep pushing yourself further into this.” 

“Shut up.” Baëkhyun’s nostrils widened and his pupils dilated abruptly. It was too much. Too much of burning embarrassment, too much of shame, too much of pain. Much more than any of the blows that The Other Him blew at Baëkhyun last night. 

Chanyeøl laughed but put his hands up in defense. “As you wish, your majesty.” he bowed deeply, making sure that Baëkhyun saw his smirk. “But with all the respect, I think your royal chain has slipped, just like your self-control,” he added, his voice dropping an octave lower.

The expression on Baëkhyun’s face didn’t waver even though everything was boiling inside of him. One day he would teach Chanyeøl a lesson. Today was not that day. Baëkhyun turned on his heel. He was wasting his time here. Chanyeøl was the last person he wanted to spend time with. One time Kāi said that under other circumstances they would probably get along together well. Whatever “well” meant. Baëkhyun couldn’t imagine that anyway.

He passed a corridor after corridor, crossed the grand hall and walked through the empty yard with a hole of black burnt ground. _Must be Chanye_ _ø_ _l’s doing._

But it wasn’t what Baëkhyun was looking for.

His heartbeat was racing as he stepped on the second floor. The adrenaline and excitement were rushing through his blood. He could feel in under his fingertips - the anticipation, the anxiety, the desire.

He wasn’t supposed to feel any of these.

_Boom-boom, boom-boom._

Baëkhyun was sure that his heart was loud enough to be heard from across the floor.

 _“Get a grip,”_ he chanted internally. It would be very much welcomed if he stopped reacting like that.

One step, two steps, three steps. 

The door was slightly opened. The faint stream of bluish light was spilling on the floor, casually brushing over the tips of Baëkhyun’s boots. Absently, he wondered if Chën knew that Baëkhyun was out looking for him. He wondered if Chën cared if he knew that.

Tentatively Baëkhyun opened the door. 

The room was dipped in the bluish light coming from the various screens covering the wall. The imaginary in the TVs varied depending on Chën’s mood. A few months ago, Baëkhyun dared to ask how did the screens work. Chën told him that he didn’t know and that once he would figure it out, it over for all of them. Baëkhyun held onto that. 

Baëkhyun blinked, re-adjusting his vision to the violent lights.

“Do you want me to turn them off?” asked Chën and Baëkhyun heard him before he saw him. Nonetheless, his heart roared with joy. Muscles on his face didn’t even twitch. 

“No, it’s fine,” Baëkhyun replied automatically because Chën always asked that question and Baëkhyun always gave that answer. 

Chën’s head was ducked down as he was leaning over the scattered chessboard. White and black pieces of the chess were lying chaotically on the table as if they were bowing under the intensity of Chën’s piercing gaze. Baëkhyun could relate. One smile, one huff, one scoff - it was enough for Baëkhyun to be on his knees. Internally. 

He looked tired but still captivating with his sharp cheekbones and dark eyebrows. His eyeliner was as dramatic as always - slightly curled up just like his lips. Baëkhyun supposed that in some faraway universe those lips could appear soft and cute but right here, right now the unintentional barely-there smirk looked almost terrifying. Baëkhyun loved it a lot. He had been dreaming of tasting it for years.

“What are you doing here, Baëkhyun?” Chën asked, finally looking from above his chessboard. His eyebrow quirked up when he noticed the state of Baëkhyun’s face. “Nice trinket you have there. Is it new? I don’t recall seeing it before?” Chën purred quietly, covering the distance between the two of them in no time.

His index finger lightly touched the cut running over Baëkhyun’s skin. Although it was icy cold, Baekhyun had to fight with all primal urges not to lean into the touch. Chën seldom touched him. Baëkhyun wouldn’t dare to destroy a moment like this. An electric spark jumped from one skin on another. The edges of the wound tickled ever so slightly. 

“Do you like it?” Baëkhyun replied with just a hint of breathlessness. “Do you like the kitten-scratch my other self gave me?” he added, spitting the last words like a poison.

Chën smiled and Baëkhyun’s heart clenched uncomfortably. How much he hated this feeling. How much he hated loving this kind of attention.

“Certainly, it’s much more permanent than the silver you like to put on your face.” Chën hummed thoughtfully, his nail grazing over Baëkhyun’s cheekbone. The ghosting touch was enough to break goosebumps on Baëkhyun’s skin and he really hoped that Chën couldn’t sense that. “But I like it. It suits you. It’s gonna look better when it’s fully healed.”

For a moment Baëkhyun thought that something warm and gentle flashed in Chën’s eyes. It was probably just the light coming from the screens. Chën pulled his hand away and stepped back, crossing his arms on the chest. The low-cut of his red jacket deepened a little bit, showing a little bit more of bare skin. Baëkhyun gulped quickly. He was sure that this sight would hunt him in his dreams for months. 

Baëkhyun shook his head and looked away, making sure to roll his eyes. “Whatever, I’m gonna clean it and put the chain over this.” After all, it wasn’t like Chën’s opinion mattered. It really didn’t. “How did the meeting with your origin go? I don’t see any scratches or bruises. Unless he violated your ego?” his eyes glimmered with fake mirth. 

The colors coming from the screens smoothly melt into hues of violet and lavender. 

“We played chess,” replied Chën, sitting on the top of the table. A couple of chesspieces rolled on the floor. One knight, three pawns and two kings. Chën kicked one of them under the wall. There could be only one king.

“Chess?” Baëkhyun echoed with disbelief.

“We’re both opposed physical violence unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Chën yawned widely. His tongue piercing winked at Baëkhyun mercilessly. 

“At least he actually talked with you…” Baëkhyun grimaced. The other Baekhyun was completely uncooperative. “Baek pointed his blade at me before I could utter a word.” 

Chën lazily rested his cheek on his shoulder and looked at Baëkhyun behind his curled eyelashes. Mentally Baëkhyun shoved this image into his “cursed images” drawer. 

“Maybe he found you intimidating. I can actually see that happening,” Chën suggested, his voice low and daring as if he was anticipating Baëkhyun’s reaction. 

Little did Chën know that if he wanted to flare Baëkhyun up, he shouldn’t catch one of his snakebites between his teeth. Because no matter how many times Baëkhyun saw that, it always set his insides on fire. Not to mention completely throwing his sanity out through the window.

Baëkhyun gasped lightly and forced himself to look away. 

“I’d find you intimidating if you stood in front of me like that. Fierce and armed,” Chën continued, apparently completely oblivious to Baëkhyun’s inner turmoil. “I think, I would just surrender, maybe. Knowing that I stand no chance against you. Kneel and bow.”

Baëkhyun hissed loudly, “I can’t think of a good reason for us to crash against each other.” 

Chën’s smile grew wider and wilder. 

“I can think of several reasons. Depending on what kind of crash are we talking about.”

Baëkhyun laughed loudly, trying to muffle the sound of his hammering heart. “Care to share these reasons with me?”

Chën turned on his heel, giving Baëkhyun the opportunity to shamelessly ogle at his board shoulders. 

“Maybe one day…” he replied, his voice slightly smaller, maybe softer too. 

_Must be the fact that he was back-facing Ba_ _ë_ _khyun._

“I will keep that in my mind,” said Baëkhyun, flicking his tiny braid to the back. It was easier to talk when he didn’t have to force himself to look at Chën. To look at him and hide every piece of emotion that he wasn’t supposed to feel. 

Chën looked over his shoulder and his blue eyes were shining proudly as if he knew something that Baëkhyun didn’t. Little did Chën know that Baëkhyun had a secret on his own.

“It’s a promise then,” said Chën and the words melted into Baëkhyun’s ears like honey.

“You never keep your promises,” Baëkhyun pointed opting to choose a harsher reply. 

That startled a laugh out of Chën’s throat, loud and rumbling. Baëkhyun could feel the air twisting around them. It was spiked with something electric and addicting.

“I keep my promises,” Chën’s teeth caught on his bottom lip and the corners of his mouth quirked up. “ I just take awfully long to fulfill them.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chën.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was about to say that nobody asked ad yet I delivered but in fact... you asked about this and I obliged.  
> (because I am whipped for these too and they are too hot to leave their story open like that)

If someone asked Ch ën when Baëkhyun’s eyes started to change their color he wouldn’t be able to answer. He looked into them so often, he recalled a memory of them so frequently that in his opinion it happened naturally: dropping from the deep bronze haze, into the steel greyness until they reached their current sharp and fresh baby blue shade. Sometimes Chën wondered if one day he would look at Baëkhyun and realize that his eyes were sinfully white - the final proof of madness. He wondered if it would change anything. He wondered if he cared, he wondered if he minded. 

He wondered if he would stop considering them the most fascinating thing in the world. 

_ Chën heard the footsteps before the door even opened. He knew exactly who came looking for him. Maybe he should be afraid, maybe he should be nervous. He wasn’t. Fear for his own blood and soul - if he had one - disappeared a long time ago. He abolished this spectrum of human emotions along with everything else that made him feel cowardly.  _

_ With the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of a mop of curly dark hair and brown wide with surprise eyes. Chën sighed. Some things couldn’t be helped.  _

_ “Just look at you,” Chën murmured in general direction, “You look so innocent and pure. How could I possibly attempt at harming you?” _

_ Seconds later a silver pocket knife was being pointed at him. It was shining almost as brightly as Baëkhyun’s eyes - Chën noted absently. Screens flashed with an image of the training room. Chën turned away, finally facing his human self. The other. The Chen. _

_ “Put down that knife, my little one. We don’t do physical violence in this household,” he stated, gently wrapping his fingers around Chen’s thin wrist. It was warm under his touch. Painfully warm. He let go of the hand as soon as the knife dropped on the floor. _

_ “We should fight though.” Chen’s eyebrows furrowed comically.  _

_ Chën leaned forward and tilted his head to the right, trying to assess how long they could be in the same room without one of them breaking down. There was no saying that the only way one could win was to break the other’s spirit.  _

_ Brown eyes, that Chën didn’t have anymore, glanced at the screens on the wall just at the right moment to catch the sight of Baëkhyun slashing his blade through the air next to Baekhyun’s ear. Chen hissed at the sight. _

_ Bingo. _

_ “Oh, we will fight.” Chën nodded and stepped away. His fingers rested on the chessboard set on the table. “Do you, by any chance, play chess, Chennie?” _

_ “It’s Jongdae not Chennie. Jongdae. Out of all people, you especially should use my name.” for the first time his voice was cold. _

They talked a lot that night. About everything, about anything. Chën nibbled at every subject, trying to sense what made the other - “Jongdae” - feel vulnerable and lost. If he were to crack him, he needed to do it smartly. He needed to lure him straight into the trap without Jongdae realizing it.

_ “How dangerous is this game?” Jongdae asked suddenly, playing with the black pawn.  _

_ Chën arched his eyebrow with interest. It was the first question Jongdae directly asked him this evening.  _

_ “I’d say it’s mildly serious,” hummed Chën in response, relishing in the way his opponent shuddered under his gaze. “Could be worse though. What we’re doing here is child’s play compared to what’s going on in the other segments, I assume.”  _

_ The black pawn fell on the ground with a soft thud. Jongdae’s shaking fingers hovered above the chessboard before moving his rook. Bold move. Chën had to admit that he didn’t expect that coming. He took Jongdae for someone who liked to play everything as safe as possible. _

_ “Who’s the most dangerous among… all of you?” the black pawn was still rolling across the floor. _

_ Great question. _

_ Chën rested his elbows on the table, breaking from his careless demeanor a little bit. He knew his next move and he could take his sweet time to analyze the opponent. His slightly trembling lip, barely visible hair on his cheek, his eyes which were oh-so-different from Chën’s own. It was somewhat calming - searching for the differences on the other’s face and finding plenty of them. They were different. And that made Chën feel powerful. _

_ Maybe Jongdae wasn’t weak. But Chën was stronger. More determined to win. _

_ His left rook mirrored Jongdae’s previous move. _

_ “It’s hard to tell who’s the fiercest one but if I was to fight any of them I would be really wary of Chanye _ _ ø _ _ l and Kāi. They lost at least half of their sanity along with their eyes. It progressed faster for some bizarre reason.” Chën replied finally, prompting his chin on his palm. The metal chain clung against his rings like a golden coin clings against another coin.  _

_ “What about the others?” Jongdae bit his lower lip looking at the chessboard. He had to take initiative.  _

_ “Suh _ _ ø _ _ ’s very smart man. I think he has never heard of something like “mercy”. I bet he had everything planned before any of you stepped into the complex.” Chën tongue darted out to lick on his snakebite. He liked the way metallic aftertaste stayed on his tongue. “Sehůn from the other hand is the type who wants to prove himself over and over again. He never blows one shot. He blows thousands of them and they rarely miss the target.” Chën continued with amusement watching Jongdae’s struggle. _

_ Their eyes met for a split of a second before focusing on the board. _

_ “What about Baëkhyun?” Jongdae’s voice was breathy and faint as if he was worried about the answer.  _

_ The screen for a split of a second flashed with white light. Chën straightened up his back. Something akin to a shiver ran down his spine, breaking goosebumps on his skin.  _

_ “If I were you, I wouldn’t try fighting him,” the words rolled down his tongue slowly, coming out as a low growl.  _

_ Jongdae’s naturally curled-up lips quirked as he looked at Chën. Stray strands of his hair were falling on his forehead, creating a shadow over his eyes. He didn’t look like a kitten anymore, he looked like a mountain lion. There was something in his eyes that Chën didn’t like. Some knowledge that was beyond Chën’s understanding. He didn’t like it at all. The smugness on his face, the lazy flutter of his eyelashes. He didn’t like any of these. _

_ “Don’t fret, my evil self.” Jongdae purred with satisfaction, “I wouldn’t dare to touch him.” _

_ He moved one of his pawns, blocking one of Chën’s bishops, and leaned back in his chair. This time he was looking straight into Chën’s eyes. “He’s all yours.” _

_ Chën huffed out a half-amused, half-irritated sigh. The game was about to get interesting. _

The sound of his heels clicking against the metal staircase echoed across the entire floor. There was nobody here beside of Chën. Almost no one bothered to visit him here where everything smelt of burnt electrical wires and where the only noise was made by jumping sparks of pure electricity. Usually, he enjoyed the eerie lull but today the silence was much noisier than Chën anticipated. 

The lamp above his head flickered sensing his nervousness. 

Chën crossed the yard, casually walking over the burnt hole on the ground. He heard that Chanyeøl did that to his other self. Would Chën himself be able to do that to Jongdae? Probably. But he didn’t try and it didn’t seem like a tempting perspective. The smell would probably stick to his skin for ages. Burnt, warm, sickening. Chën preferred fresh and sharp scents. Electricity, metal, maybe blood. 

He didn’t realize where he was going until he stood in front of the training room. Well, the training room was a little bit of exaggeration in his opinion. The only person who used this room was Baëkhyun anyway. 

The raw stinging sound of metal crashing against metal was coming from behind the door. Chën allowed for a little smile to crawl on his face. He liked watching Baëkhyun fight. Chën knew no gods, never seen one therefore didn’t believe in their existence but surely, Baëkhyun in berserk must be close to the most feral of immortals. 

Quietly, watching his steps, Chën walked into the room. As expected Baëkhyun was on the runway, slightly above the primal floor level. The blade of his rapier shined under the artificial white light of the lamps above them. The weapon looked gorgeous as if it was made of diamonds and pearls. The tip of the blade winked at Chën encouraging his eyes to follow the elegant curve. The edge was sharp enough for him to feel the sting of it under his fingertips. Beautiful. His eyes slid further until the silver metal abruptly disappeared replaced by the thick black handle. Chën had the luck to hold it in his hands once. It was much heavier than it looked and yet right now it appeared as light as a feather. 

Despite the strong grip, fingers wrapped around the handle seemed almost harmless. Too delicate to cut, to shed blood, to kill. It was horrendously attractive. And there was more to that. There was the sharp-edged shape of Baëkhyun's wrist. There was his sleeve that rode up, showing off a patch of smooth skin on the inside of his wrists. Enough to tease, enough to fool and distract the opponent. There was always more to Baëkhyun than it seemed.

And Chën’s eyes wandered higher - along the lines of his strong arm flexed under the leather jacket - and higher and to the side again to indulge his cravings in the sight of Baëkhyun revealed and well-pronounced collarbones. The neck was covered with drops of shining sweat and even from the distance, Chën saw the way his throat drew in the air, the way his muscles under the skin. Art within the art.

After that, it was easy - the smooth chin, the parted lips, the lean nose, and cold baby blue eyes. 

Mesmerizing, beautiful, skilled, brilliant, lethal most likely.

Chën blinked and when he opened his eyes the tip of the blade was pointed at him. His eyes easily slid up, tracing up the silver edge once again to fall straight into the bottomless icy ocean of Baëkhyun’s eyes. Chën skin prickled with anticipation. He didn’t have words to describe how _ exciting  _ it was to be around Baekhyun. To look into his eyes.

He raised his arms lazily, face sliced by the sharp smirk. 

“It’s unfair to attack harmless civilians.” Chën tipped his head to the side, gaze switching between the blade and Baëkhyun’s eyes. He liked to believe that Baëkhyun would never sink his rapier into Chën’s side but then, better ready than sorry.

But Baëkhyun only broke into a soundless chuckle, before letting the rapier fall by his side.

“You’re hardly harmless as you are, Chën.” he replied easily and turned around to put the blade at its rightful place.

There were thousands of knives, swords and rapiers in the room. Chën was the only person in the world who knew that among thousands, Baëkhyun used only one blade. He said once that it made him look more elegant, more graceful, more like there was art in his pushes and attacks. Chën could agree on that. 

Baëkhyun slid off the platform and sat on its edge. His face was only slightly above Chën’s level. There was something powerful about his posture. Maybe it was the fact that they were on Baëkhyun’s ground, maybe it was the lamp lighting his frame from behind, or maybe it was just Baëkhyun himself. Chën couldn’t tell.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Baëkhyun rested his chin on the prompted hand. Words slurred a little bit on his tongue, courtesy of the tiring training. Chën didn’t mind. He liked it when Baëkhyun was slightly breathless. 

“I was bored.” Chën shrugged, nipping at his snakebite. Even if he noticed the way Baëkhyun’s eyes were caught up on the action, he didn’t comment on that. 

“And you came here seeking for my company?” Baëkhyun’s eyelashes fluttered ever so shyly. “How sweet of you.” 

_ Sweet. _

Chën laughed loudly, the sound echoing against the walls of the room. He missed how Baëkhyun face melted into blissful awe for a second. 

“Sweet?” Chën repeated, trying the word on his tongue. It tasted much sweeter coming from Baëkhyun lips. “The nerve. Only you would use that kind of word to describe me of all people.” 

“I like shocking people,” Baëkhyun grinned, unconsciously licking his lips as if he wanted to chase after the sugary aftertaste of his words.

Maybe it was the light or maybe it was Chën’s vision in his faulty eye, but Baëkhyun’s eyes seemed to shine brighter today. A little bit like snow in the sunlight. Sparkling and magical. A little bit like a flickering lamp. Familiar and safe. 

“I thought that electricity, including electric shocks, is more of my domain though,” Chën teased, resting his hand beside Baëkhyun’s thigh. If he tried a little bit harder, he would be able to brush his thumb against Baëkhyun’s hip. 

Baëkhyun grinned at him sharply. “I’m not the type to stay in the frames they put us in.” 

His lips were pretty - Chën concluded. He liked the way they moved when Baëkhyun was speaking. Every vowel was round and smooth. Maybe that’s why he didn’t find Baëkhyun’s company as tiring as the others. 

“Careful. You sound like you’re about to rebel, huh?” retorted Chën. “And here I was thinking that it’s our _ good  _ selves were the one rebelling against the system out there.” 

Automatically Baëkhyun’s hand flew to the pink scar running across his face. The silver chain was barely covering it. His eyes darkened at the freshly recalled memory. 

“I don’t really care about what’s going on out there.” Baëkhyun spat viciously, “ _ We _ are the superior ones. Once  _ we _ pass the tests,  _ we _ will be the ones in charge and  _ they _ will have to rebel against us.” 

Chën hummed absently, intensely staring at his fingers. 

“You truly hate him, do you? The other Baekhyun?” he asked after a couple of seconds when Baëkhyun’s breathing evened out a little bit.

“Yes.” one word, so much poison. 

“Why?” 

A shift, the smallest of movements to the right and suddenly Baëkhyun’s thigh was touching Chën wrist. 

“We were created to hate them, isn’t that right?” 

A beat of silence, knowing, meaningful, thoughtful. No answer and yet an answer nonetheless.

“He has another name, you know?” Chën blurted with as much of viciousness as he could pour into one sentence. “ _ Jongdae _ , he calls himself.” 

“Good.” Baëkhyun snorted instantly, making the other freeze. There was something akin to satisfaction written over Baëkhyun’s face. Something Chën couldn’t quite grasp.

“Good?” he echoed.

A tilt of Baëkhyun’s head, a flicker of the lamp above their heads, a fanning breath against Chën’s face. The distance between them was so small, that he could see the bumps in Baëkhyun’s still healing scar. He thought that the person who did this to Baëkhyun deserved to be beheaded. 

“Of course,” Baëkhyun agreed bashfully, completely missing out on Chën’s confusion. None of them was good at reading emotions. “That means that you’re the only right one to wear this name. The only  _ Chën _ ever. You’re special, while for example I’m not. I’m an exact copy, even my name. You’re… you.” his voice was flat as if he was completely at peace with that.

On a spur of the moment, Chën’s left hand slid in the gap between Baëkhyun’s thighs, caging one of his legs. It was much more than invading each others’ space. It was  _ intimate _ . Baëkhyun’s breath audibly got caught up by surprise in his throat. Chën liked Baëkhyun breathless. 

“Bullshit.” Chën seethed, heated words spilling out of him like a flood. His eyes were  _ livid _ . “You’re not a copy. You’re one hundred percent original version. Limited edition. Every inch of you is one of a fucking kind. Perfect.” the phrase, one word only, rang loud and clear across the room. “You’re so detailed in your creation that it took the universe not one but two tries to finish you as you sit here right now. Not a copy but the utmost version. He doesn’t compare to you, do you understand?” 

They were much closer now, close enough for their breaths to tangle together, for their noses to almost touch, for their eyes to talk about everything that their voices couldn’t express. Baëkhyun couldn’t do more but nod slightly.

One could say that they were kissing even before Chën’s lips landed on Baëkhyun’s. One could say that it was Baëkhyun who tipped Chën to lean forward. One could say that Chën came here with the vague idea of kissing Baëkhyun. It would be easier to tell if any of these were true, if everything in them, around them stopped being so blurry with heat.

Because. Chën lips fitted perfectly against Baëkhyun’s. Equally chapped despite the lipstick, equally eager despite everything that Baëkhyun was used to. Perfect, just perfect. Chën’s hand shifted and suddenly it was sliding up Baëkhyun’s thigh, leaving a warm trail on the clothed skin. No. Not warm. Burning hot. Baëkhyun sighed into the kiss. Chën tilted his head to the side for better access as his tongue slipped into Baëkhyun’s mouth. Warm. No. Not warm. Burning hot. Baëkhyun moved closer, letting Chën’s arms wrap around his waist and hooking his leg against the other’s thigh.

_ Sheer excitement. _ They weren’t supposed to feel that. They also didn’t know other word for that.

Chën broke the kiss for a moment to place another kiss on the corner of Baëkhyun’s mouth. Snakebites were cold against the warmth of his skin. Baëkhyun shuddered, feeling the chaste kisses on his cheek, on his jaw, finally on his neck. It was like a spark of electricity was transferred onto his skin with each touch of Chën’s lips. 

“See?” Baëkhyun breathed out with difficulty, making Chën stop, his lips brushing against the base of his throat. “You can be sweet if you want to.”

The soundless chuckle spilled out of Chën’s lips, hitting Baëkhyun’s skin with a force that would surely leave a mark on his neck. 

And on the contrary to the scar running across his face, this mark Baëkhyun certainly didn’t mind.

“The nerve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I hope that it wasn't too disappointing! especially the ending since it feels a tad rushed...  
> if you feel like talking some more feel free to hit me up on tumblr at @healthyamountofcrazy

**Author's Note:**

> Nevermind, I thought it was meant to be a one-shot but I was wrong.  
> Thanks for reading and remember to stream Obsession!


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